The tontine
by Amshea 3
Summary: A bio-chemical lab blows up in the hospital and this has a tremendous impact on Greg. Several others that has no connection what so ever are also dead. Murder or very coincidental accidents.........
1. Loss of a dear friend

~~~ Ok, my very first CSI fic and of course I will make dear Greg the main character. Let's skip the formality everyone knows about this not belonging to me and blah, blah, blah. Hope you'll enjoy and I'll try not to be too nasty. ~~~  
  
The hospital is as busy as ever, doctors flocking back and forth. A young man and a young woman dressed in long whit coats step out of the elevator, exchange a few words and then separate.  
  
The young woman manipulates a penlight between her fingers as she draws nearer to the bio-chemistry lab, which is full of people, both students and doctors.  
  
When she is a mere few feet away from the door a powerful explosion from inside the lab shake the hospital and sends her with a lot of glass smack into the opposite wall.  
  
The woman looks up to find the lab in flames before her brain finally signs off and engulfs her in darkness.  
  
***  
  
Greg yawned and lay down the piece of paper he had been studying, the toxicology report Nick had gotten his pants up in a bunch over. Well, here it was, but where was he?  
  
He managed to stifle the next one. It had been late last night, and active to say the least. He had been with a British stewardess who was going to be stationed in Portugal for a while and needed a diversion. Well, he had provided a diversion, that's for sure.  
  
"Yo, Greg! You have the-"  
  
Greg scooped up the piece of paper and all but showed it down Greg's throat. "Window wash."  
  
"Beg pardon?" said Nick as he started studying it.  
  
"The chemicals used are chemicals found in window wash."  
  
Nick looked up from the piece of paper. "What? No wisecracks? No 20 questions?"  
  
"Nah." Greg turned his back on him.  
  
Grissom suddenly stuck his head in. "Nick, I need you to come with me to the hospital."  
  
Both Greg and Nick turned around.  
  
"I can't I'm in the middle of catching this guy."  
  
"Close?"  
  
"Very."  
  
"Good, put it aside and come with me, I need all hands I can get. The bio-chemistry lab blew up."  
  
Only Grissom saw all the blood that was drained from Greg's face.  
  
With a sigh Nick lay the piece of paper down and made to leave.  
  
"Grissom" said Greg with a voice that didn't belong to him. "A woman called Savannah Turner works in that lab. Can you make her call me?"  
  
Grissom nodded.  
  
***  
  
"It's a complete mess here" said Brass as Grissom approached him. "It's a true miracle only one person died."  
  
"Yeah, a real blast" muttered Nick.  
  
"Where are the people assigned to the lab?" asked Grissom.  
  
"One is in a hospital bed upstairs, the other one is waiting for the coroner to pick her up."  
  
"Savannah Turner...?"  
  
Jim stared at him for a long time. Then he slowly raised a finger towards a stretcher with a person hidden under a white sheet.  
  
"Oh, God" muttered Nick.  
  
Grissom released a deep sigh.  
  
"You knew her?" asked Jim.  
  
Grissom shook his head. "No, but now I have to tell a lab technician on needles that someone he cares for has been blown up."  
  
Sara walked up to them.  
  
"The lab was packed with students and doctors when it blew up. Most of them have a few scratches and bruises, no big deal, a Peter Jessup, lab technician is upstairs, condition critical, but stabile. This is a mess." Brass walked away.  
  
Grissom on the other hand did not look forward to the talk he had to have with Greg.  
  
***  
  
Greg had been waiting for that call for over two hours and nearly jumped out of his skin when Grissom entered the lab. "How is her condition? Was she there? Please tell me she had the day off."  
  
"What relationship did you have to this woman?" asked Grissom softly.  
  
"No" said Greg in a barely audible voice and turned his back on his boss. "Nothing short of a best friend" said Greg. "A true soul mate. Tell me she is ok" he added in a shaking, almost pleading voice.  
  
"Greg, I'm..." He took a deep breath. "I'm afraid your friend died in that blast."  
  
*  
  
Nick couldn't stop himself as he walked past the lab. He stopped up and looked in on the two in there. That was the first time he had seen Greg cry.  
  
His friend then tried to push past Grissom, but the other one managed to keep him in place.  
  
Nick shook his head before he continued.  
  
*  
  
"I want to see her" said Greg and tried to push past Grissom again, to hell with keeping a straight face and keep from crying. This man, his boss, claimed he had lost his best friend. He just wanted to be sure.  
  
"I don't think that's a good idea, you won't like what you see."  
  
"I just want to be sure." He locked eyes with Grissom.  
  
Finally the older man gave in, knowing Greg needed closure. "Ok."  
  
***  
  
Greg lifted the white sheet and looked at the almost completely scorched woman underneath. "Dear God" he said with a shaking voice. The tears pressed on again.  
  
"We found this on her" said Grissom and handed him a bagged wallet.  
  
In spite of his feelings Greg put on some gloves and picked up the wallet, opened it and checked the money before he flipped through the credit cards and then the pictures. He stopped when he saw a picture of himself and her. With his thumb he caressed her beautiful face and her long copper hair.  
  
Robbins and Grissom exchanged glances, their feelings with the young man.  
  
"You can take the photo with you" said Grissom. He had no idea what to say that could possibly make Greg feel any better.  
  
"If it's any comfort she died almost momentarily. She was dead when the flames took her."  
  
Greg didn't hear the medical examiner. His entire focus was on the photograph. He brushed away the ashes from the burned edges and continued to caress the photo.  
  
"I think you should take a couple of days off" said Grissom.  
  
"Yes" said Greg finally.  
  
~~~ More tears coming up. ~~~ 


	2. Darkness surrounds me

~~~ Well, it could have been sappier than this, but then I'm afraid i would take to tears myself. ~~~  
  
Greg sat in his living room in front of the TV in complete darkness and watched old videos recorded when he was still in high school.  
  
A girl with a black suit and a black top hat was sitting on the hood of a red Ferrari with a guitar in her lap, trying desperately to keep a straight face as she was singing to the camera.  
  
She was so beautiful, so alive with her waist-long copper hair dancing in the wind and her emerald green eyes practically sparkling.  
  
A mischief-maker of rank now rotting away in the morgue, a once so alive woman now surrendered to darkness, so virile, would now move no more.  
  
To tell the truth he wanted more than anything to put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. He felt downright scared at the thought of having to go on without her.  
  
He watched as she gave the camera the finger. He turned the volume way up.  
  
"Greg, not now. You have to go." He words were harsh, but her voice was full of laughter. "Please, dad has got a business associate over for dinner. If he sees you..." She laughs. "And for God's sake put your pants back on because those boxers... damn!"  
  
He laughed, but felt like he could string himself up in a rope. It was like he had lost a large piece of himself.  
  
This person on the tape, the one now lying on a brink in the cold, dark morgue had been everything for him, a friend, a therapist, a soul mate. She had danced with him in a fountain in town, she had taken a road trip with him, given him advice when it came to dating, learned him how to kiss.  
  
But they had never been lovers. They had respected and cared too much about their platonic love to risk everything on something so risky as that.  
  
Greg continued to stare at the screen. It was like this was a terrible joke, this couldn't be true.  
  
But if it were, if she really was gone and he would never see her again he didn't want to live anymore.  
  
Everything that mattered was ripped away from him, he would never be able to touch her, to hold her, to hear her laugh, to go to her when he had been dumped and needed a comforting word, he could no longer seek her advice, no longer hear her voice.  
  
"God!" He sunk into a fetal position on the floor. The pain inside was unbearable. His heart, his very soul ached.  
  
Finally, which was for the best, he fell asleep as he lay. After being awake for almost 36 hours.  
  
***  
  
Sara decided to pay her friend a little visit to see how he was doing. Hearing about what had happened two nights ago she felt a stab of pain on Greg's behalf and thought he needed some comfort.  
  
When she got to his apartment she found it alarmingly quiet. A look on the door told her that it was unlocked. She pushed the door open. "Greg?" she called into the silence.  
  
She didn't get any reply, but she could hear a woman laughing so she stepped into the living room. What she found there was more than a little shocking.  
  
On the floor in front of the TV was a living dead Greg watching an old tape of a woman.  
  
"Greg?"  
  
He made no sign he was aware of having her there.  
  
She rushed over to his side and took a look at him before she took the remote control and turned off the tape just as the woman was doing a little dance.  
  
Greg blinked at the screen, his eyes bloodshot, his hair a mess, his chin stubby and he looked like he hadn't eaten since Adam and Eve fell from grace.  
  
"Greg?"  
  
"She's not coming back, is she?"  
  
"No, Greg, she's not." She patted his back. "She's not." She tried to pull him to her, but he resisted.  
  
He looked at her like she was a stranger.  
  
Sara thought fast. She had one trumph card and she needed to play it although that could mean trouble. "Grissom needs you back to work." This was not true, she was not sent to get him back, but she knew that work was probably the best diversion for him right now.  
  
"Ok." He got up and walked away like a zombie.  
  
Sara just hoped Grissom wouldn't kill her for this. She saw the picture on the table and picked it up. It was old, High school perhaps. Judging by the way she held around him from behind, protectively, and the way they smiled to the camera told her that these two had always been close.  
  
"Oh, Greg" she sighed.  
  
***  
  
Grissom looked up as he saw Greg approach him. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "I specifically told you to take a few days off."  
  
"Sara said that you needed me." Greg was suddenly overwhelmed by another strange feeling. He felt a large lump in his throat because he was being rejected.  
  
Grissom chewed on it for a while. "It couldn't hurt."  
  
"Was it an accident?"  
  
"Greg..."  
  
"Just tell me."  
  
"This is off the record."  
  
Greg nodded.  
  
"I'm afraid that we have to rule this one an accident. I have a gut feeling it's not since the doctors over at the hospital are deliberately not speaking to us. But we don't have enough evidence."  
  
Greg stared at him in disbelief. "If it's murder you can't just let this lie!"  
  
Nick rounded the corner just after Greg's little outburst. "We're working on it. If it really is a murder we'll nail the bastard. You have my word."  
  
Greg seemed ok with this and just walked into the lab. But once inside he suddenly pictured the explosion right here and then he fantasized about the one in the hospital. And he sunk down onto the chair.  
  
She had been right by his side in the hospital room in every vacant moment, tending his wounds and just being there for him.  
  
He remembered the shocked expression when she had first seen him there, then the concern and the way she had run her fingers gently next to his wounds.  
  
She told him that she had been so scared when she had found out, she had been beside herself with worry, she would personally see to his recovery and that she loved him more than anything.  
  
He never got the chance to tell her that he felt the same.  
  
~~~ I swear there will be a bit lighter in the next chapter ~~~ 


	3. The tontine

Ok, previous chapter more sappy than really intended. But things will soon brighten.   
  
Nick marched down the hallway with the list of patients hospitalized due to the blast. He slowed down as his full focus was on the papers rather where he was walking.  
  
"Anything?" asked Sara as she passed him.  
  
"Third degree burns, it was a tiny hole in a oxygen tank. All it took was a tiny spark."  
  
"Who would do such a thing? In a hospital?"  
  
Nick didn't answer, instead his eyes darted down the list. "Hey, take a look at this. Do you see what I see?"  
  
She looked at the list. "We have to tell Grissom."  
  
"How are you doing?"  
  
"Leave me alone" Greg practically snapped back.  
  
"Come on, Greg. I'm only trying to reach out here."  
  
"Please leave me alone" he said with the last air of dignity he could find. He was ashamed of the way he had acted, he wasn't the kind to fall apart like that. He only hoped that he could find a rational explanation for all of it.  
  
She sighed. Ok, no one could say that she hadn't tried. She was about to go when her cell phone rung.  
  
It was Grissom, from the hospital.  
  
"What have you found?" Pause. Catherine stared at Greg. "Could you run that by me again?" She was out of there before Greg got a chance to ask what was going on.  
  
Grissom and Brass looked down at the young woman in the hospital bed, a woman with long wavy copper hair and covered in plasters. A woman they had first thought dead.  
  
"Care to tell me how your wallet ended up on a dead person?" asked Brass.  
  
She locked eyes with him. "First I want to tell you why the lab blew up." She took a deep breath. "Several people have died in what the police has classified as unfortunate accidents." She spat out the word like it was venom. "But all these people are connected."  
  
"How?" asked Grissom.  
  
"The tontine."  
  
"What tontine?"  
  
"Two weeks ago a man was wheeled in, a dying man. He started pointing out people to this tontine. At first we have no idea what the devil was going on until he died and his lawyer gathered all the people he had pointed out and congratulated us. My deepest regret is that I left the lab that day. All in all there were ten of us and the last one standing will get the money."  
  
"Why a tontine? Did he know any of you?"  
  
She frowned. "That's the odd part, he didn't." She looked up at Brass again. "His lawyer said that this man wanted to prove that given the right motives people would start killing each other off. I hate to say that the man was right."  
  
This was a bit hard to swallow for both Grissom and Brass.  
  
"Do you have any evidence?"  
  
She shook her head. "That is why I told doctor Owen to call you guys as soon as I came to. There are several doctors who think that this is more than a chain of really bad accidents."  
  
"What kind of accidents?" Grissom's interest was triggered.  
  
"One was killed by lifting weights, the balance-lever cut off his air supply. Apparently it was a bit too heavy for him. Another one fell down the stairs, broke her neck and died instantly. I assume that Tracy is the one in your morgue."  
  
"Tracy who?"  
  
"Tracy Summers. We work the lab together. The reason why she was found with my wallet was probably because she had left hers at home and I told that I could lend her some money."  
  
"Do you often hand out your wallet to co-workers?"  
  
"Only those I trust with my life. And if you think that I'm behind it I would more than want to know what motive I possibly could have? My father left me over six million dollars after his death. If you don't trust me, I welcome you to ask Greg Sanders, I believe he works at your lab?" She raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Yes, and he thinks you are dead" said Grissom.  
  
"I believe he has taken it with composure. But I'll let him know as soon as I get out of this bed that I'm not dead."  
  
"You'd better tell him now, he is pretty... broken."  
  
Grissom returned to the crime lab and put his team to work instantly. Then he went over to Greg. "Someone is waiting for you in my office." With these words he walked off.  
  
Greg stood there like a dumbstruck fool for a bit before he muttered something that didn't even make sense to him and headed for Grissom's office.  
  
He opened the office door and his heart nearly caught in his throat at the sight of the woman who slowly turned around. About a hundred different feelings and thoughts rushed through him. This couldn't be right, he had to be dreaming. But there she was. "Savannah?" His grip around the handle tightened and his knuckles turned white.  
  
She just stood there for a few heartbeats before she threw out her arms. "Surprise?"  
  
He snorted. "Surprise?" Within seconds he was over by her side, hugging her.  
  
"Hey, tiger, careful, temporary broken."  
  
He let go of her and looked at her. "I thought you were dead."  
  
She pushed her hair away from her face. "So I've heard."  
  
The following seconds he truly hoped that he didn't blush. "Shut up." He smiled.  
  
"But I found it really sweet that you wept for me."  
  
He stared at her. "I still can't believe that you..." He pointed at the door. "Then who's in the morgue?"  
  
"I'm pretty sure it's Tracy Summers." She sighed. "Thanks to her no one else were killed. She took most of the blast."  
  
"She is burnt beyond recognition."  
  
"In lack of a better place to put the oxygen tanks they were placed in the lab. There must have been a leak or something." She shook her head. "It really kills me that Tracy has to die because some sleazeball wants money."  
  
"Money?" He sat down on the edge of Grissom's desk, knowing that was strictly prohibited but the man in question wasn't there.  
  
"As I told Brass and Grissom; a week ago this old dying man was rolled in, a mean, old, cheap bastard. Just for fun he pointed out ten people to this tontine."  
  
"Tontine?"  
  
"Yes, after this Italian Tonti. It's a form of hereditary share, only that the last survivor is the only one who will get the money. He picked out ten people at random just to prove that humans are really greedy, savage beasts. He wanted to prove that honest people would started killing each other over nickels."  
  
Greg frowned. "Didn't he have any relatives?"  
  
"Someone in New Jersey, but he would rather have a bit of fun. Too bad it will be after his death. Bet he sits in some level of hell, looking upon this with a huge grin."  
  
"He just picked ten random people? All doctors?"  
  
She shook her head. "The janitor. No problem there, a juicy cold will be the end of him, two students and of course Chris."  
  
"Your ex?"  
  
"Yeah, he died on his table." She took a deep breath and it looked like she needed to say something, but didn't know how.  
  
"You need a place to stay?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
He put an arm around her. "You can stay at my place if you don't want to be alone."  
  
"It's vital that no one knows I'm still alive. If they knew... well... That blast was meant for me."  
  
End sappy, from here on end the story will take a rather different turn. 


	4. Savannah

Savannah stepped out of the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel and sat down next to Greg on the couch. "Sorry for invading your life."  
  
He snorted. "Like you are much of an invasion. Of course I will help old high school friends if they need it."  
  
"Speaking of which have you kept anything from those days?"  
  
"Have you?"  
  
"Like what, my virginity?" She snorted a short laughter when she saw the expression on his face. "Sorry, that one was too inviting to pass. No, I haven't. Most of it has gotten lost, moving around."  
  
"All I have is a few books and a few of the tapes."  
  
"Oh, God. Not those?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
A devil went through her. "You watched them while crying over me?"  
  
"You want me to toss you out?"  
  
"Poor baby." She grabbed his chin and kissed him on the cheek. "I know that the painkillers you are taking after the blast can have that side affect, depression I mean. For instance last year I broke my arm and the painkillers I took had that effect. I cried over the neighbor's cat being missing."  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"Arrange a search party to get the cat back. No, I switched medication."  
  
"Must be hard to work with one hand."  
  
"Had no choice, can't let down the boss, you know..."  
  
"Don't worry. Grissom won't allow us letting him down. You know what he did to me? He grew mildew under the sole of my foot. I could hardly walk."  
  
The last sentence was barely out when she started laughing.  
  
"That's friendship, alright. Mischievousness is more like it."  
  
"Sorry" she said as she tried to control herself. "They don't call him Gruesome Grissom for nothing. The man's a legend."  
  
"You've heard?"  
  
"There's been rumors." She yawned.  
  
"You've been through a lot, you should go to bed."  
  
"I'm fine. I just can't believe all that has happened, the pointlessness in it all."  
  
"Understandable."  
  
The tone was getting too low for Savannah. She wasn't the type that wanted to dwell on the bad. She sat up. "So, how's life? What's it been, two months?"  
  
"What can possibly happen in two months?"  
  
She shrugged. "A lot. The reason why I ask is because I wouldn't want to be in the way of any possible lady companionship."  
  
"What do you call yourself?"  
  
She grimaced. "You know what I mean. If you have a girlfriend... I don't want to put you in an awkward position, I could always ask someone else."  
  
"Awkward position? You mean like at Rick's?" He shook his head. "I have never been so embarrassed."  
  
"What about the time when you decided to strip in my bedroom? I was sure my father would find you and kill you."  
  
"A bit of childish fun." He remembered that incident and it was far from fun. In the start it had been, showing up at her house with a camcorder for her sister's school play. He wanted to have a bit of fun and told Savannah to strip for him so that they could make money. She had of course refused and he had stripped himself to show that it was nothing to be afraid of. The only flaw was that her parents came home as he stood in the middle of her room dressed in nothing but socks and a boxer.  
  
The worst part wasn't that they had heard the car far too late, her mother climbed the steps faster than a cheetah could run so he had to dive under the bed to keep out of sight. He knew that her father would kill him if he found him in his daughter's bedroom.  
  
Of course Savannah nearly blew his cover by almost laughing her butt off as her mother entered the room.  
  
Luckily her father took the car and left again so that he could escape the premises. Her mother still told the story to her bridge friends so it was safe to say that he avoided every woman above the age of fifty.  
  
"I don't think you have ever been in so much trouble as when I have been around. I was sure that Rick was going to kill you as well. Although it was only a fair game of Twister."  
  
"It probably looked like something else."  
  
"Of course, you cheated by tickling me. Real mean thing to do" she added.  
  
He looked at his wristwatch. "You know, I would really like to get up in the morning so I think I'll turn in."  
  
"Yeah, and I'll burn your tapes."  
  
"You'll leave them alone. Would you really let a Hollywood director miss the chance to see me strip?"  
  
"You're not all that."  
  
"No, I'm more. Look, you have the choice, I'm for the feminist stuff and all that, you can chose between the couch and the bed."  
  
"I'm taking the bed."  
  
"No, you're not."  
  
"Then why did you let me choose if you're not man of your words?"  
  
"I made you believe you had a choice."  
  
"We can both take the bed. If you stay on your side then I'll stay on mind."  
  
"Sure you can keep your hands off?"  
  
She got to her feet. "Positive."  
  
Greg was the same as always when he returned to work the next day. That was more than what could be said about his friends. It seemed like they were all trying to avoid him, like they were waiting for some axe to drop. He just hoped it wouldn't be dropped on him.  
  
But hope never take you anywhere. Grissom was the one to drop the bomb.  
  
"Greg?"  
  
He had been standing with his back turned but now faced his boss. "What?"  
  
"How well do you know Miss Turner?"  
  
"What do you mean?" The question sounded more like a sneer from an angry Pitbull than a real question. He probably hit the "defense" button a bit too fast. "Better than anyone."  
  
Grissom just nodded. He wasn't about to tread on a ground angels wouldn't dare to put a toe.  
  
"I can tell you right away that she isn't capable of such a heinous crime."  
  
"The evidence, Greg" said Grissom calmly. "Speaks for itself. All i can do is listen." He left before the lab technician could say anything. The more Greg defended her the more he would think her innocent, the more devastated he would be if she was guilty of these crimes.  
  
"The reason why you are here is because some things are very uncertain" said Grissom. Brass had left the interrogation over to him because of the delicacy of the situation; not only was one of the CSI team personally involved, this woman was an heir of Adrian Turner, a man who had build up a small empire. Plus she was working at a hospital. The mere thought of the publicity this would get... That was things Grissom cared little about, but Brass did.  
  
"Like what?" asked Savannah.  
  
"Like where were you when Sabrina Monroe fell down the stairs?"  
  
Savannah looked at him with a stone face. "I have no idea, the time of death is not known to me."  
  
"Between 10 and 11 previous Saturday morning."  
  
"At the super market and no, no one can really verify that i was there."  
  
He nodded. "What about Tuesday between 12 and 12.30?"  
  
"The lab. Tracy was with me, but she can't verify it either. But doctor Owen can."  
  
Grissom nodded. "Thank you."  
  
She got to her feet, assuming that the interrogation was over.  
  
"What about between 2 and 3 today?"  
  
She stared at him. "I went home to get some clean clothes."  
  
Grissom had been staring at her hand the whole time. She had a rather irritated red mark at the base of her thumb, most likely from a bee. "Where did you get that bee sting?"  
  
"There's a nest of bees just outside my bedroom window. Are we done?"  
  
"I can give you something for the pain."  
  
"It's ok."  
  
"I insist." He got to his feet and left the room. He returned about two minutes later with a cotton pad with some kind of liquid. He rubbed the red mark and when he was done the pad mysteriously disappeared. "now you may go."  
  
She was halfway across the room when he asked her "Aren't you curious as to who's dead and how?"  
  
She just stared at him. "Good afternoon, Mr. Grissom." She left the police station with a distinct goal. 


	5. Feelings

Grissom worked as a madman because he was dead positive that Savannah had a finger in what had happened, probably a whole hand.  
  
The rest of the people involved were also brought in for interrogation, but no matter how hard he pushed, no matter how hard he tried there were no real hard evidence and evidence did not produce itself.  
  
He had, however managed to find the type of bee that had stung Savannah, a hybrid between African and European, same as had killed Dennis Hardgrove.  
  
Dennis Hardgrove, fifty years of age, worked as a anesthesiologist, allergic to bees. Perfect crime, prefect "accident".  
  
Grissom would get the killer no matter what... but one question swirled around in his head; if she was the killer why had she pushed forward a full scale investigation?  
  
Greg on the other hand suffered from a completely different problem. Lately he had caught himself looking at Savannah in a manner unsuitable. What he felt and wanted was as far from the word "platonic" in every possible sense as one could get.  
  
Therefore her had decided to keep a low profile and preferably far away.  
  
To say a few words to her the few times they met and talking on the phone was nowhere near having her around all the time. The fact that she was almost the first thing he saw when he got up in the morning and the last thing he saw before he went to bed without being allowed to touch her caused him so much agony that it was almost indescribable.  
  
It even interfered with his work. He found himself fantasizing about her in the middle of the day and only seemed to snap back to reality whenever someone talked to him.  
  
He knew that Grissom was after Savannah, so while he spent half the day desiring her he spent the rest of the day being mad at Grissom.  
  
Nick couldn't stand the tension in the crime lab, he hated that people were angry at each other, whether they displayed such feelings in public or freezed each other out didn't matter. When the air was tense enough to cut he was the one that brought the knife.  
  
"Greg..." It was best to try the gentle approach.  
  
The younger man looked up at him, silently begging for a diversion. He needed something else to work with, to think about other than this mess.  
  
"Grissom has been wrong before." Seldom, but it had happened. Once, perhaps.  
  
"If he knew her..."  
  
Nick found Savannah most attractive, but Nick knew that the devil came in all sizes and shapes. He knew about the darker side of man that was present in all of us, that everyone is able to kill if the proper motivation pops up. He wasn't about to let beauty and past speak for a person. "When this is all over we will all get answers. If she is innocent you can just give Grissom the old "Told you so", if not then it's not the end of the world."  
  
Greg stared at him. "You think she did it, don't you?"  
  
"I don't know. Grissom doesn't know. Hopefully we'll find out soon. In the meantime could you please keep a civil tone with Grissom?"  
  
Greg turned his back on his friend.  
  
Nick didn't have any better luck with Grissom so he returned to work, his dreams of being a peacemaker shattered.  
  
Greg returned home that evening feeling more tired than a mule that had single handed pulled a whole wagon train. He unlocked the door and stepped inside to be greeted by Savannah, who gave him a glass of red wine.  
  
"I felt a bit crazy today so i decided to buy a Montrachet. I just hope it tastes fair enough, haven't dared to try it."  
  
Greg downed the contents in one gulp.  
  
"That bad, eh? Your boss thinks i did it, don't he?"  
  
As much anger Greg felt with Grissom he wouldn't say anything. "I can't say, sorry."  
  
"It cost over 600 dollars, thought you might want to know just how low i feel." She threw her hair back. "Dinner? The least i could do" she added when she saw the expression on his face.  
  
"No, i think i should hit the shower."  
  
"Greg, i think we should talk."  
  
Suddenly the tension in that room seemed almost as dense as the tension that had been in the crime lab and suddenly he felt completely cornered and helpless. His brain hit overdrive and he did the one thing that could settle it all. It was now or never, win or loose, stay or leave. He gave her a kiss.  
  
It was a completely stupid thing to do, it had no place, but it seemed like a good idea at the time... the short while it lasted.  
  
Savannah looked like she had received a slap across the face.  
  
"I think I'll take that shower now." He felt stupid, idiotic and not just a little hurt as he climbed the steps. 


	6. Tension released

The hot water gave him little or no comfort what so ever, but perhaps it would eventually wash away his shame and embarrassment. Greg let the water flow richly over him, steaming hot water, washing away some of the tension he felt.  
  
He didn't feel the draft from the opening of the door, nor did he hear the cabinet door open so he jumped when a soft hand gently traveled over his back.  
  
He just closed his eyes and felt how the touch sent sparks through his body.  
  
The cabinet door was closed and another hand came to rest on his back, making the same journey as the other and both hands came around him to touch his manhood, making every fiber of his being spring to life.  
  
He turned around to receive a deep, passionate kiss.  
  
She broke the kiss and locked eyes with him before she started kissing his neck.  
  
He grabbed her by the wrists and pushed her up against the wall. He couldn't stand this any more so he took her right there in the shower.  
  
Grissom sat in his office in the dim light with his chin resting on the tip of his fingers that was folded together. He had no idea how long he had been sitting like this, nor did he care. The man showed little signal of life, but if a speaker had been connected to his brain it would have hummed like hell.  
  
He had strong distaste for the strings he had to pull, but some times one really had to pull those strings.  
  
The information he now had was not from the most reliable source, but he had his crew working to verify that information. Together they were really working overtime.  
  
"Are you alive?"  
  
He looked up to find Catherine in the doorway. "I'm still breathing."  
  
"Could have fooled me. We've got him, the police is picking him up as we speak." She was of course talking about another case.  
  
"Good, go home." He released a deep sigh. The waiting was killing him.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing, I'm just enjoying the peace and quiet."  
  
"Liar. Good night." She knew it was no use pushing the matter. If he didn't want to tell, he didn't want to tell and then it would be pointless to try and fish it out of him. She left the lab and out into the chilly night air.  
  
Grissom got to his feet and left his office, continued down the hall to where Nick worked his butt off. "Anything?"  
  
"Too much." Nick handed him a piece of paper. 


	7. A hit in the face

The terrible banging on Greg's door woke him up. Instinctively he turned to the now empty side of the bed where Savannah had been. He felt the sheets and discovered she had been gone for quite some time 'cause they were cold.  
  
He got out of bed and threw a bathrobe around his bare body before he opened to find Brass and two boys in blue.  
  
"Sorry for the wake-up call, Greg" said Brass as one of the uniformed cops entered the apartment.  
  
"What's going on?" Greg turned and looked at the cop, but returned his focus at Brass as he spoke.  
  
"Is Miss Turner here?"  
  
"N-no, she's gone, why?"  
  
"I'm afraid I have some bad news."  
  
Nick rubbed his temples. He was sitting at the kitchen table trying to enjoy breakfast, but breakfast didn't agree with him today.  
  
He felt like a traitor, a dirty, rotten traitor. He had only done his job and accordingly, but he felt like he had just rammed a sword straight through Greg's back.  
  
What he had found was more shocking that he could possibly imagine. Savannah Turner was far from a doctor, she had never worked for any police department. The woman hadn't even finished college. As far as the money was concerned she was flat broke. What she hadn't gambled away she had spent on designer clothes and expensive cars.  
  
It killed Nick that right now the police was probably over at Greg's place to arrest the woman.  
  
When he had first seen it on black on white he couldn't believe it, but the woman was nothing more than a gigantic fraud.  
  
She had probably gotten so used to the jet-set life that she couldn't return to a regular A-4 life. Murder was a just cause.  
  
To tell the truth he wouldn't mind see her crash and burn, but it ate him up inside that Greg was a big part of this. He was so by loving that woman.  
  
Greg had almost literally jumped into his clothes when Brass got a respond after putting out an APB on her car. It was parked outside her apartment and the officer that had called it in had not approached the building.  
  
"Stay here, please" said Brass.  
  
"No, I'm sure this is a huge mistake. Savannah has not killed anybody. I'm going with you to talk to her."  
  
Brass gave in.  
  
"Savannah!" Greg ran past the police officer that had been waiting for them. And he did not hear the officer tell Brass that he had tried to ring the doorbell and knock on the door several times.  
  
He unlocked the door with the spare key Savannah had once given him and entered the apartment. The first think that struck him was the painful silence.  
  
"Savannah!" he called out once more.  
  
There was no reply.  
  
"Detective" said the police officer.  
  
Two heartbeats later Brass muttered "dear God".  
  
Greg looked in the direction the officer was pointing and before Brass got as far as to screen Greg from the view his heart sunk in his chest from the dreadful sight and he fell to his knees after they gave in under him.  
  
"Terrible" muttered Robbins.  
  
Grissom stared at him. "Tell me."  
  
"Not much to tell, really. She took a dive from the roof into the pool, head first, after slitting her wrists. No need to say the reason for the act suicide. The water was so shallow that the scull cracked, but she didn't die from the fall, she drowned."  
  
"I guess you don't want to state the obvious...?"  
  
"You're right." He sighed.  
  
"I'll notify Greg." He turned his back on the coroner and left. He was not looking forward to this.  
  
Greg just stared at him when he entered the lab. "You were right" he said apathetically.  
  
"You should take a few days off."  
  
"No. The last thing I need is time to think about this."  
  
Grissom nodded. He didn't want to tell Greg about the circumstances around her death, nor her life. It was time for some wounds to close and heal. 


	8. Suicide

Savannah woke up in the middle of the night, took a last look at Greg. Guilt had been eating at her since she Grissom had first looked in her direction.  
  
The fact that Greg thought her to be something she wasn't was even worse. Money or not, she had been trashing life like it had been an old rusty Volkswagen.  
  
She kissed him goodbye and watched him turn in his sleep before she got to her feet and dressed silently. Then she left the apartment and drove back to her own.  
  
She took a shower and dressed in a white, light summer dress before she went up to the flat roof and looked down into the pool.  
  
It is hard to put oneself in the head of a person that is about to commit suicide, but when you feel like everything is against you and the world simply don't care any more cutting yourself and watch the sin, your sin be washed away with the flowing of the blood seems like a pretty good idea.  
  
She took a large gulp of the bottle of Jack Daniels as she stepped closer to the edge. She wasn't about to rot in some stinking jail like an animal. If she had a choice, and she did, she would go down in a death to remember. If not by it's splendor then by it's hideousness.  
  
In the bag next to her was a scalpel she had taken from the hospital. She picked it up and put the blade to her skin. It was cold and sharp. Suddenly she felt scared.  
  
Another look into the pool. Then at the blade. There were no turning back.  
  
She took a deep breath before she slit her wrist and before the pain got too intense she slit the other one as well before she took a dive into the pool below.  
  
The last thing she felt was the cool water.  
  
But for an onlooker it would have been a horrible sight. The roses of blood that emitted from her wrists and head and spread out soon colored most of the small pool in a sickening red color.  
  
The only witnesses were a pair of Robins. 


	9. Two weeks later

Greg leaned back on the chair. "You owe me fifty dollars."  
  
Warrick sighed. "Dang!"  
  
"Don't gamble when the odds are against you."  
  
"Thanks man."  
  
"Don't mention it." Greg looked after him with a smug smile. He was the king of the hill, the ruler of this lab, the number one. He was far from arrogant, but he knew what he was and what he had.  
  
The first few days after the "incident" he had been broken, but soon he was back on top. He was once again the same old Greg.  
  
He returned to his work. Grissom was again almost literally holding a sharp knife to his throat, forcing him to prioritize his case.  
  
He was almost done preparing the sample when suddenly a terribly cry rocked the crime lab.  
  
Brass had brought in a woman that was resisting arrest to the fullest.  
  
Every head popped out to see what the hell was going on as he forced a woman in front of him, covered in blood.  
  
Back to work, thought Greg before he slowly turned his back on the ruckus. Now and then he cracked into a smile when the woman spat insults, power expressions and venom at Brass.  
  
Yeah, things were pretty much back to normal.  
  
The end of this story, but also the beginning of a new one. Note: This story is mostly based on Greg's point of view, that's why there's no real conclusion to the story. P.S check out the new "Hit list". 


End file.
